


If Only

by destielsmestiel



Category: Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
Genre: F/M, M/M, McCurleyson, Time Travel, what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsmestiel/pseuds/destielsmestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of Mice and Men is a story of what happened; not what could or should happen, but what actually happened. Steinbeck himself nearly named it 'Something That Happened'.</p><p>But what if...</p><p>what if Curley had a second chance to set things straight, </p><p>would he take it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boss

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to John Steinbeck
> 
> I'll add tags as the story progresses

Curley sat silently in front of the fire fondling a glass of whiskey, in his left hand of course, his right never really recovered after the 'being caught in a machine'. _Come to think of it, everything when down hill from then, every since those idiots set foot on dad's ranch, no, my ranch._

“I'm boss now” he said.

“I am boss” he reassured himself.

_If it were up to me they would have had to pay._

* * *

He rose from his battered rocking chair and glanced at the men working on the ranch. The wind was blustering, blowing the crops all directions other than where they were suppose to go. Rain began pouring down, denser and heavier, as cover was sought.

Curley’s face flashed a grimace, but surprising not aimed at the men, instead at the realisation he would never have as much sway as his father did. Contempt towards everything he would never be.

No wife, no family, nobody to care, to talk to.

The ultimate isolation.

“I have my ranch,” he reminded himself. “Mine, all mine,” he continued muttering, “they can't take that away from me.”

* * *

 His mumbles were cut short by a knock at the door. Though it was weak and strained, Curley knew the noise wasn’t going away anytime soon, so strolled over to the door to answer it.

“Curley, I know I’m just an ol’ swamper, boss, but I think we needa have a chat,” the old man croaked.

“The hell with ya!” he cried through the door, trying to sound firm, but coming across as stubborn.

_You’re the boss. Not him. My old man wouldn’t have put up with him, and neither‘ll I._

“If you don’t stop bangin’ that damn thing imma…” he paused, “imma get you dragged outta hear an’ have you livin’ in the stable with the animals.”

_Yeah. Dad would be proud. He didn’t take nothin’ from no one._

“Curley,” the voice repeated.

“You’re canned, get off my property”

“I’ve been canned the last 5 years, ever since I ain’t useful to you, but that don’t mean I'm gonna leave you alone.”

* * *

Finally Curley opened the door.

“If I don’t like what I ‘ear, imma kill you.”


	2. A/N

_**On a hiatus while I write Guess We're Stuck With Each Other.** _

_**Sadly I don't have time to write both, and I have planned said fanfiction in much more depth, so I will be pursuing it for the foreseeable future.** _

_**Please do check it out as I have spent quite a long time on it.** _

_**When it does come to an end I promise to revisit this story properly. I owe it to Steinbeck at the very least.** _


End file.
